242 



RECREATION 



nightfall enjoy the warmth of the 

 largest fire with impunity. Earlier in 

 the season such indiscretions might de- 

 populate a good locality within a week. 

 It is a grand sight in September to lie 

 on the summit of some hill and look out 

 over scattered herds passing to and fro 

 below. It is a thrilling moment when 

 some fine bull, previously hidden among 

 bushes, suddenly rises, shaking his ant- 

 lers in the sunlight. You watch him 

 for a moment through the glasses. You 

 compare him witn another over yonder, 

 or perhaps a third or fourth already 

 on the field. Per- 

 chance he takes the 

 "lead," passing by 

 the foot of your 

 hill ; if so, there is 

 a hurried scramble 

 down among the 

 huckleberries, t o 

 the shelter of a 

 friendly rock be- 

 low. Nothing in 

 the whole realm 

 of big game hunt- 

 ing is more trying 

 to the nerves than 

 that brief interval, 

 those few minutes 

 of suspense spent 

 while waiting for 

 a bull to reach 

 your ambush. But 

 let him pass by — 

 poor brow antlers ; 

 now he strides by 

 you can hear the 



nclla/nd.- 



not 20 yards away ; 



clack, clack of his 

 hoofs on the hard "lead," and a moment 

 later, catching the scent, he is off along 

 the trail like a runaway locomotive. 

 There is another feeding on the moss 

 with some -does half a mile to wind- 

 ward, and you prepare for a long crawl 

 among the bushes. Mind the wind, and 

 he is easily stalked. It is a failing com- 

 mon to the race. Should he, however, 

 be walking at a brisk gait, a far dif- 

 ferent problem is presented. I recall 

 with some chagrin several occasions 

 when I tried to catch up with a "travel- 

 ing" caribou, keeping the while under 



cover. In each instance I had the mor- 

 tification of watching a good head liter- 

 ally walk away out of sight, without 

 having seen, heard or scented the slight- 

 est danger. A long semi-circular de- 

 tour to leeward, made at a fast sprint, 

 is, in such an event, far preferable to a 

 stern chase with poor cover. 



Aside from this marked contrast in 

 the caribou's habits during the period 

 immediately preceeding and following 

 the peeling of their antlers, there is 

 another question of much general mis- 

 apprehension, and yet one of equal im- 

 portance from the 

 sportsman's view- 

 point, namely, their 

 annual fall migra- 

 tion. 



If the reader will 

 glance at a map of 

 the colony, he will 

 notice on its west- 

 ern coast a penin- 

 sula stretching one 

 hundred and fifty 

 miles northward to 

 the southern ex- 

 tremity of Labra- 

 dor. In this vast 

 tract thousands of 

 the animals spend 

 !? the summer months. 

 When September's 

 first frosts nip the 

 vegetation, they 

 commence to move 

 southward, crossing the railroad within 

 or near the comparatively small area be- 

 tween Grand Lake and Gold Cove. From 

 September 15 until well into November 

 an almost continuous procession passes 

 through the regions around Sandy 

 Pond, Birchy Lake, or the Humber, 

 and, naturally enough, it is to such lo- 

 calities as these that the majority of 

 sportsmen repair. In fact, three-fourths 

 of the non-resident hunters (a conser- 

 vative estimate) pitch their camps with- 

 in forty miles of Howley Station. The 

 result of this is obvious. Herds which 

 are accustomed to cross the railroad 

 regularly each autumn have been ex- 



MAP OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 



